Personal Assistant
by Amy of Asgard
Summary: Tom / Reader fic. You are a candidate for the job of Tom's personal assistant, this sets off a chain of events that lead you to a path of self discovery and knowledge that you never imagined. Set in 2009, when he was cast as Loki. Story better than summary.


**_Hello my lovelies! _**

**_I got a new story for you, this fic is full of firsts! _**

**_My first long fic._**

**_My first Tom / Reader fic._**

**_This little piece of literature came to me during one of my many trips home on the bus. You'd be amazed at what you can do with an hour of your time on the bus everyday :P _**

**_Why long fic? Because it didn't really do to well for me as a one shot or a short story. I felt that there was more aspects of the character to explore, and I thought it would be fun to write Tom and Reader for the first time. I gotta be honest though, it feels funny to write Tom / Reader, but it certainly is a blast!_**

**_So I guess the summary pretty much states it all, and without further ado... Enjoy!_**

**Disclaimer: Tom's not mine, but how I would love him! **

The clock was ticking, but it tolled in my ears as if it were a grandfather clock sounding next to me, I felt my heart pounding in my ears, and I was pretty sure I stopped breathing at one point. My nerves were skyrocketing, and I couldn't contain the joy and the fear all at once. I was actually more nervous than I had ever been, and I couldn't keep my hands from shaking, my teeth from chattering and my knees from bucking together. I was so happy I was sitting down. The quiet murmurs and sounds of the office were amplified ten times due to my shakiness; every heel that walked by sounded like a jackhammer pillaging the floor, every phone ringing sounded like the music would blast directly through my eardrums, and the soft murmurs of the people around me felt like they were screaming directly in front of me.

Why was I nervous?

Well, today I was about to enter the most important job interview of my life so far. I had wanted this job since I heard of the open position a few weeks back. I was floored when I found out that I was one of the few candidates that had been chosen for a second callback, well third if you count the telephone interview. The candidates that weren't so lucky at least got a trip to London, and that was pretty good, right? I was so proud of myself for having made it this far, given that the last interview hadn't gone so well. But then again, coffee stains aren't that hard to remove from dress shirts, correct?

For the past two interviews I had only been questioned by people from the staff, but today I was actually going to be talking to the man himself, a star on the rise, as they called him. That was pretty much what made me stumble like Bambi when I came in through the door. I had to mentally tell myself to not faint when the time came, but now I wasn't so sure.

I did know though, that today I wasn't going to drink coffee, no sir. I couldn't risk spilling anything on him.

I first knew of him through some friends who were into British television, and I would be lying if I didn't say that he caught my eye since I first saw him, it all felt so surreal and yet I had to keep reminding myself that this was not a dream.

I still remember when I got that first call. I was lying down in my apartment surfing the web when my phone rang, I was told to come in within 2 days' notice, and I had to completely drop everything just to be able to make the trip here. I flew across a whole continent on the red-eye flight just to arrive on time. Out of the 15 possible candidates, only 8 made it here, the other 7 didn't care to make the trip. That caught me off-guard though, seeing that I thought I would be told with more time in advance to prepare.

''Bring enough clothes for a couple of weeks, and you have to be here within the next 48 hours, and yes; we're serious.'' After that I heard the click of the phone being hung up and I was left to decipher everything else on my own.

The words made my heart sink, and I almost thought of giving up, that my efforts would be in vain, but given my history with failure, I knew that this risk would definitely be one worth taking, no matter what the cost. I made a few calls, called in a few favors, and voila, here I am.

My hotel room is nice I guess, seeing how it's company provided. But what can I say? If a get the job I'll soon be able to buy my own ''flat'', as they call it here. I'll be able to get to know the city and all its wonders, I've always been curious for new things and adventure.

But reminiscing doesn't really settle my nerves right now, and I don't know how long it'll be before they call me in. From those 8 candidates that flew here, only 4 were selected, and it stills surprises me how I was in the final 4 after I dropped a cup of coffee on that poor man. I can still hear the hiss he let out when the scalding liquid fell on his shirt and seeped through the soft material onto his skin. My nerves had betrayed me yet again, I began forming incoherent sentences when I saw what my jitters had caused onto this unfortunate fellow, apology after idle apology came racing out of my mouth, and yet all he could say was ''don't worry''. I nervously straightened myself out after the incident and he continued the interview with no evidence of the burn I had just given him, except the big brown stain on his light blue dress shirt. I never questioned why I got the callback, but boy was I happy. At least I knew that the trip to London hadn't been a complete waste. I sure hope that guy's ok though, I hadn't seen him since then.

They called us in randomly and so far the first three candidates had gone in before me. That only made it much more difficult to concentrate. What if I babbled out my answers when he began to interview me? What if I emptied the contents of my stomach onto him? What if I wasn't qualified enough for the job?

I didn't have enough time to question all my possible flaws, because all of a sudden I heard the door unlock and it slowly swung open. I saw a man walking out with his head facing the floor and his shoulders slightly hunched. He didn't seem too happy.

At would happen with me? Would he be obnoxious? Would he be rude? Would he be nice? Or was his innocence and playfulness only something that was reflected on the screen due to wonderful acting?

Time stood still in those couple of seconds and I could swear I saw everything in slow motion, and with a jolt I suddenly came to the real world when I heard a soft yet firm British voice call out my name. He didn't step out of the office though, but he left the door open for me to come in.

I stood up slowly and fixed my shirt and skirt as much as I could before walking to where the open door awaited me.

I walked in and there he was, sitting on an office chair, wearing the blackest, most crisp suit I had ever seen, it did wonders for his pale complexion and his curly, blonde hair , his face clean shaven. I hid these emotions as best as I could, and gave him a friendly but secure smile.

I introduced myself with utmost professionalism and shook his hand, his hand enveloping my small hand completely.

''Pleased to meet you, take a seat right there please'' he said as he motioned to the chair in front of him.

He smiled and let out a soft laugh as he began to speak once again.

''I don't think I've introduced myself'' he stated. My voice momentarily failed and all I could muster was a small shaking of my head.

''My name is Tom Hiddleston''

**Shall I continue?**

**Much Love! **


End file.
